The Gilbhean
by voskowulf
Summary: Drustan finds himself sworn in as an initiate in a mysterious Lady s army. He will struggle through trials and conditioning, competing against all others to gain the approval of his Lady as she watches over them all. This is an exploration on devotion seen from two perspectives, contains BDSM.
1. Chapter 1

_We Kneel For No Man_

These are our words, the words we chant at the beginning of each day. The words Our Lady taught us. To give us strength, to give us courage for any trial that lies ahead. Our Lady leads the chant, from her platform high above, looking down and over us. Our Lady will chant, the initiates and I repeat, heads bowed in deference. Not until we have proven ourselves, and the brand of the Snake marks us as a brother may we gaze upon Our Lady's beauty. With the chant over, it is time to prepare for training. The few clothes we wear are shed. My shirt and kilt, carefully laid to my side. They are the dress we wear for battle, chosen for us by Our Lady. They must be treated with the same respect, for they belong to Her, as in turn do each of us.

Naked I stand, head still bowed. The morning's sun beating down on my neck and back. A bead of sweat begins its slow trickle downwards, following the contours of my body. The body She has sculpted. I am naked save for my collar and chastity belt, both are symbols of our devotion to her, and She holds the key to both. I still remember the day both were put on, the embarrassment I felt at being naked in front of Her. Exposed and vulnerable, heat rising in my face as my heart raced and head rushed. Now I feel honoured that She would look upon my naked flesh, a privilege given to few.

My arms are tied high over my head, leaving my back exposed, ready to be marked as Her's. She teaches me that pain is simply an extension of her touch, something to be loved as She is. It was a hard lesson at first, each lash of the whip causing screams of agony. Each cut of her knife, searing pain. Now when She marks me, I am just as vocal but the screams are now of ecstasy for her pain, for her.

"Are you ready?" She whispers softly into my ear.

"Yes my Lady, thank you My Lady" Comes my reply, already I tense in anticipation.

She puts her blade to my throat, lifting my chin before dragging back across my shoulders and down. It begins to bite into my flesh and I feel the warm trickle of blood escape to run down my back along with my sweat. I gasp in sheer delight.

My training for the day has begun.


	2. Chapter 2

She stood elevated on a platform, Her eyes closed, letting the sound of the final words of Her chant, as recited by the initiates, wash over Her like a cool breeze. She took a deep breath as they quieted, and exhaled slowly, opening Her eyes. She observed them a moment, knowing they dare not move an inch until She commanded it.

Nine men knelt before Her, heads bowed. Her new initiates. For several weeks, they would suffer trials of body, mind and spirit, separating the worthy from the filth. The few able to relinquish these three aspects of themselves to Her completely, would be elevated to take place in Her army. Some would do so blindly and willingly, some would need to be broken. Those who would reject the Offering of Self would be condemned to lowly servitude, banishment, or, on rare occasions, death.

Her eyes lingered on two of the men. Both had caught Her attention in very different ways.

The Proud One... he sought to prove himself the most worthy of all. He danced through every trial put before him, making a show of every accomplishment, convinced his natural skill and endurance would lift him above the others. His potential could not be denied, and She wished to see in which direction his pride would push him.

But the second... The Scarred One. Unlike the other, he had no natural ability to help him along. He struggled through each trial, learning the necessary skills as he did them. It slowed him down, but it never discouraged him. Every trial seemed a triumph for survival to him, and She enjoyed watching his expression of relief each time he succeeded. She was glad to note he never failed the same trial twice, and was curious to see how far he could push himself.

Perhaps, in one of these two, She would find Her Ceannard.

The heat was cruel this day. She took advantage of this. Every man stripped bare, their uniforms neatly folded beside them. She let the sun kiss their skin red before giving the word that would begin the day's training. She watched each initiate turn their backs to Her before rising, letting the instructors lead them away.

Everyday, the initiates would spend time alone with Her for conditioning of The Three. She would take them to the very limits their mind, body and spirit would allow, until they merged into one, perfect being, ready to devote their entire Self to Her. Some would call it torture. Regardless, it was necessary, and She took in every cry of pain as a precious Gift.

Stepping into Her tent, She found the Scarred One waiting for Her, arms tied high over his head, his back exposed to Her. She let herself Love him, and what he offered Her, as She would for every initiate who would follow after him. They were precious to Her. They needed Her guidance and protection, and so it was Her duty to Love and elevate them.

As was his habit, he gave a slight tremor of anticipation as She approached him. She noticed the skin on his shoulders, lightly burned by the sun. Good. This would make his skin so much more sensitive to Her blades. Leaning forward, She whispered into his ear.

"Are you ready?"


	3. Chapter 3

I saw Our Lady today. As initiates we are forbidden to gaze upon her, a privilege that must be earned. But today I stole a glance. A quick, fleeting glance. I could not help myself, I was compelled to look upon the woman who saved me. It was only a glance, I hope no others noticed. I don't know what the punishment for such a transgression would be. Whatever it could be, it would be worth it. A hundred times over. I only saw Her hand as She reached out to touch my shoulder. A soft delicate hand. Porcelain white with nails blood red. There was a softness to them that seemed at odds with the power She wields and the foes She has vanquished.

With Her hand on my shoulder, I look down once more. Suddenly overcome with shame, I have failed Her. Broken Her rules, Her trust. As this consumes my spirit She whispers into my ear.

"It's okay my boy"

And I felt peace.


	4. Chapter 4

She walked behind the men as they dressed themselves. With today`s training complete, they had once more gained the right to wear their uniforms. As they each finished dressing, they knelt down on one knee and waited, heads bowed.

This was always a tense moment in the day for the initiates. A simple touch on the shoulder from their Lady meant they had done well, and had earned the right to eat and rest for the night. If the Lady left without giving them Her approval, it meant an evening spent on menial duties, and leftovers from the other men for dinner.

For the Lady, however, it was a kind of reward. It excited Her to see how some of the men reacted as She walked between them. She knew they were tired, sore, and hungry. Each one anxious to know they had pleased Her enough to eat and rest. She sometimes prolonged their agony, taking Her time to pace back and forth behind them. She couldn't allow them to take Her approval for granted, it had to be a hard earned privilege.

She also took this time to see if any of them, weakened by the day`s trials, would give in to the temptation of looking at directly at Her. It was forbidden for the initiates to look upon Her, until they were elevated into the Gilbhean. Only then could they see Her Love as well as feel it.

It often disappointed Her if none attempted it. In these rare, fleeting glances, She saw many things. The impure lust of the unworthy, the seething hatred the trials would raise up in a lost cause, a hopeless grasp for something to renew a dead soul. It made Her job easier. With one, simple, fleeting glance, she could dismiss a failure and spare Herself the energy of the trials.


End file.
